Feathers and Cheapshots?
by Wasting The Day
Summary: JonoWarren slash fic. Angsty man and rich man get together for some fun. Who loves Paige more? FIND OUT! Up Currently: Part 1.
1. Default Chapter

Jono's tired. Tired of watching Paige and Warren snuggle on every couch, kiss under every tree, and well, tired of them being together. His angst has gotten the best of him; he's ready to blow the school up, again, just to not see them.

Of course, he could leave. But, where would he go with no money? Weapon X blew up, and Angelo's dead, Jubilee's off away, and as for the rest of his old crew? No, he didn't keep in contact. Or maybe he did, but they can't help him at this point. He'd go back to Empire State University, if he hadn't come out as a X-Men, and well, it also wasn't taking publicly known mutants (and thanks to Purity, he was now out for good). So, Jono, boy wonder, is stuck at Xavier's, watching his ex love, and her new love, make love. Not really, of course, but it's a known fact they do, and that they can get pretty loud. He sees why she likes him though. Tall, rich, playboy like Warren? Big muscles, large sword, fluffy angelic wings? Hell, he's pretty sure even Logan likes Warren as eye candy. Who doesn't?

So it wouldn't surprise him to one-day walk in on the two. Or, the other way around.

Warren's tired of seeing Paige try to make Jono jealous. To him, it seems that every time the little wannabe Goth comes into view, she starts acting smuttier. Which doesn't bother him, he kind of enjoys it, but it's starting to get irritating. He loves Paige, truly, but he can't stand being the man in the middle. Honestly, he feels like a play toy, a goat, something just to make Jono jealous. It's working too, the younger man's look-of-death towards Warren is getting scarier, and scarier, week-by-week. So now, he's decided the best place to avoid both of the young X-Men, is the faculty recreation room. Or, the "big-TV-room-no-one-uses-except-for-sex" room. Which, luckily, was void of any mating couples, including Bobby and Jean-Paul (who, honestly, seem to enjoy this couches armrests the most).

Which is where he's sitting, now, looking for something on TV. He starts with channel two, which is news; channel fifty, MTV, The Assistant; forty five, Spike TV, cars; sixty three, Comedy Central, old hack comedians he used to like; fifty five, Nickelodeon. Ah, good old cartoons. Fairly Odd Parents, to be precise. Its dumb, yes, but Warren likes it. But, if Paige walked in, she might be a bit concerned he's watching this, and realized leaving it on CNN, which was currently running stock closing prices, and jacking off to imaginary beings, wouldn't surprise her. She still thinks money makes him hot. (She's right, it does, but not to the extent she thinks. Now, people rolling in money, is a different story.) So, when Jono walked in, Warren didn't bother to look up. In fact, he didn't hear him. His past of not speaking pretty much made him silent as a mouse (and his lack of heavy boots today helped).

Jono walked into a very sticky situation, if he can call it that. Warren, pants open to the world, eyes shut, wrinkled brow concentrating on his fleeting mental image of a nude person, but then... he lost it. Jono, by now, was perched on the island counter behind the winged man, watching him in a mirror (hung directly across from the couch, lovely planning idea that was), and giggling to himself. No, not giggling, he just... grinning, ear to ear. Warren looked so sad, his old deflating penis looked just as sad. Poor wings, he just couldn't keep it up anymore. It must suck being thirty.

"Ahem," he says, the boy with a mouth again, using it as it's intended. "Do you need some Viagra?"

Ooh, cheap shot, thinks Warren, knowing all to well, from his glimpse in the mirror while tucking himself back in, that Jono had been there awhile. "No, but do you need some more alcohol?"

"More wouldn't hurt. I was just thinking... maybe I could help you out, here." With all best intentions, of course. More for himself, then Warren.

"Hah, sure you could. Like I'd trust you. Asshole," said the giant Winged Man, as he got up from the sofa. "Stay away from Paige, got it?" He couldn't help it, it hurt Jono to know Paige was his, and after that cheap Viagra knock, and he had to get him back.

"You think she's yours, you do..." Stuffed, angered, angst-ridden as his nature intended, Jono left the room first. Angel, score one. Chamber, score zero.


	2. 2

Argh, why did he let Warren win that little verbal battle? Beer. Slurred words. That's right, he won because Jono was a bit drunk... a 'bit' drunk is putting it nicely, though, he's more like slammed. Ever since his ability to eat, drink, speak, and give head came back, Jono has been hitting the hops quite a lot, especially since returning to Xavier's. Logan kept a good stock in the faculty's refrigerator, and well, he didn't seem to mind a six-pack or ten missing every other day. What would he do? Make Jono shave his back again? It wasn't too bad the first time, he's pretty sure he could handle it again. The beer is certainly worth the disgusting ritual. And hell, its worth seeing a nude Wolverine, too. Jubilee was right- he is pretty impressive for such a stocky, hairy, Canadian beer guzzling old man. He probably has better luck than Warren keeping erect.   
  
That's still making him giggle. Mighty Warren Worthington the Third, a limp biscuit. It was kind of sexy, rethinking it all. He wasn't badly hung, pretty good size, too. Must be the wings.   
  
There are some dog hairs on his bed, he notices before sitting down. Rahne's dog hairs, her hairs. She likes to come over late at night with some hard liquor in her mouth, literally. Wolfsbane, for that is her X-Men name, likes to go to the local super mart and steal bottles of liquor. Except its not considered stealing to Jono, since she'll go back the next day and over pay for an item. She's a good girl at heart, and a good friend, but secretly? She thinks he's gay, and he may very well be for all he knows. Rahne doesn't know Jono knows she thinks this, but he does. He's not daft, he knows where she goes after a hang over. Back to the store, pay for what she stole. Its that Xavier influence, everyone here suffers from it.  
  
He suffers from it. Even though he loves knocking into Warren, he wants to apologize sometimes. He doesn't mean it, usually, he's just extremely jealous. Paige was his, and now, she isn't. Any man to lose her lost something good, and he knows how well Warren has it with her, because he had it at one point, too. And damn did he have it good. That pop star he dated? Sugar Kane? She couldn't hold a flame to Paige.  
  
She probably couldn't hold a flame to anyone, but that's old news. Really old news, and he'd like to forget about her, but so far, its not possible. Tabloids still print news that she's having his love child. Or, she's having some aliens love child, but manage to slip his name in anyways. It's boring and unimaginative, and it dulls him. Will they ever stop?  
  
"For Chris sakes!" Jono exclaims, as he notices Rahne may of left a treat for him under the bed. No, not poop, just a bunch of empty bottles; even in wolf form, Rahne does use a toilet. He picks up the empty bottles, which reek like old men, and dispose of them in the trash bin outside in the hall. Let someone assume they belong to whoever rooms next door. He thinks it may be Bobby, but he doesn't know, or care, because its not like they interact. Often, or ever.  
  
Xavier's is only temporary.  
  
Paige is sitting across from Angel, in some hotel she's never seen before. He borrowed an X-Jet, and well, that was about six, maybe seven, hours ago. She hasn't seen the skyline, or the sun, assuming where they are there is a sun. He could of taken her to some Antarctic Hotel and had it unseasonably heated. Paige wants to ask where they are, but can not. He doesn't look at her, just... at the wall.  
  
He's staring at a spot, thinking about what Jono said, 'do you need some Viagra'. Did he? Was he really getting older? And, for that matter, what did the little ass mean by 'you think she's yours, you do...' Paige was his, is his, will always be his. He slept with her every night, they had amazing conversations. Well, when she wasn't trying to show off when Jono was around. Maybe she wasn't his; maybe... maybe she stilled loved Jonothan.  
  
"FUCK PAIGE!" He bursts out, startling her. "Do you still love Jonothan?" He gets up, not wanting to hear her answer, but yet, he does. He storms into the bathroom, naked, and lifts the toilet seat lid. Pissing the alcohol he's consumed out of his body, he hears Paige get up from the bed. Silence follows, and he shakes his cock of any last droplets, when he senses Paige in the doorway. To humor her, he flushes, and washes his hands.  
  
"No." she says, and walks to where she'd tossed her clothes last night. "No, Warren, I don't love him. I love you." Paige is ready to go home. Warren just killed the mood. Again.


End file.
